[_Turning to the fire,_ PHILIP _talks rapidly and energetically to_ ROOPE _in undertones._

BERTRAM.

[_Into the telephone._] Filson.... Mr. Filson.... I'm speaking from Gray's Inn.... Gray's Inn--Mr. Mackworth's chambers--2, Friars Court.... You're wanted, Dunning.... Now--immediately.... Yes, jump into a taxicab and come up, will you?...

ROOPE.

[_To_ PHILIP, _aloud, opening his eyes widely._] My dear Phil----!

PHILIP.

[_With a big laugh._] Ha, ha, ha, ha----!

BERTRAM.

[_To_ PHILIP, _angrily._] Quiet! I can't hear. [_Into the telephone._]

I can't hear; there's such a beastly noise going on--what?... Dash it, you can get something to eat at _any_ time! I mean to _say_--!...

Eh?... [_Irritably._] Oh, of course you may have a wash and brush up!... Yes, he _is_.... You're coming, then?... Right! Goo'bye.

ROOPE.

[_To_ PHILIP, _who has resumed his communication to_ ROOPE_--incredulously._] Dear excellent friend----!

[_The door-bell rings again._

PHILIP.

Ah--! [_Pausing on his way to the vestibule door--to_ BERTRAM.] Mr.

Dunning will favour us with his distinguished company?

BERTRAM.

[_Behind the table on the left, loweringly._] In a few minutes. He's washing.

PHILIP.

Washing? Some of his customers' dirty linen? [_As he opens the vestibule door,_ JOHN _admits_ SIR RANDLE FILSON _at the outer door._]

Ah, Sir Randle!

SIR RANDLE.

[_Heartily._] Well, Philip, my boy! [_While_ JOHN _is taking his hat, overcoat, etc._] Are my dear wife and daughter here yet?

PHILIP.

Not yet.

SIR RANDLE.

I looked in at Brooks's on my way to you. I hadn't been there for months. [_To_ JOHN.] My m.u.f.fler in the right-hand pocket. Thank you.

[_Entering and shaking hands with_ PHILIP.] Ha! They gave me quite a warm welcome. Very gratifying. [ROOPE _advances._] Mr. Roope! [_Shaking hands with_ ROOPE _as_ PHILIP _shuts the vestibule door._] An unexpected pleasure!

ROOPE.

[_Uneasily._] Er--I am rather an interloper, I'm afraid, my dear Sir Randle----

SIR RANDLE.

[_Retaining his hand._] No. [_Emphatically._] _No._ This is one of Philip's many happy inspirations. If my memory is accurate, it was at your charming flat in South Audley Street that he and my darling child--[_discovering_ BERTRAM, _who is now by the settee on the left._]

Bertie! [_Going to him._] I haven't seen you all day, Bertie dear.

[_Kissing him on the forehead._] Busy, eh?

BERTRAM.

[_Stiffly._] Yes, father.

PHILIP.

[_At the chair on the left of the smoking-table, dryly._] Bertram has been telling me how busy he has been, Sir Randle----

SIR RANDLE.

[_Not perceiving the general air of restraint._] That reminds me--[_moving, full of importance, to the settee on the right--feeling in his breast-pocket_] the announcement of the engagement, Philip--[_seating himself and producing a pocket-book_] Lady Filson and I drew it up this morning. [_Hunting among some letters and papers._] I _believe_ it is in the conventional form; but we so thoroughly sympathize with you and Ottoline in your dislike for anything that savours of pomp and flourish that we hesitate, without your sanction, to--[_selecting a paper and handing it to_ PHILIP] ah! [_To_ ROOPE, _who has returned to the fireplace--over his shoulder._] I am treating you as one of ourselves, Mr. Roope----

ROOPE.

[_In a murmur._] Dear excellent friend----!

SIR RANDLE.

[_To_ PHILIP.] We propose to insert it only in the three or four princ.i.p.al journals----

PHILIP.

[_Frowning at the paper._] Sir Randle----

SIR RANDLE.

[_Blandly._] Eh?

PHILIP.

Haven't you given me the wrong paper?

SIR RANDLE.

[_With a look of alarm, hurriedly putting on his pince-nez and searching in his pocket-book again._] The wrong----?

PHILIP.